Who's that knocking on my TARDIS?

[whatifigetbored]

Through all of time and space, the TARDIS flew. On the outside; a blue police box, on the inside; a console room of wood and steel and candles, with buttons and glowing lights all coming together to make a kind of gothic steampunk fantasy.

For the Doctor, this was home.

"Well?" he said, almost absentmindedly fiddling with the switches and the controls on the console. "Where to next, hmm? The reign of Emperor Taizong? The fifth age of the New Savannah? Or maybe...Galsec Seven? What do you think?"

The console's central column pulsed slightly.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, old girl. You can't blame me for a moment of indecision, can you? Billions upon billions of worlds, an untold number of people and places and peculiarities to see...it's a wonder I ever manage to get anywhere at all, with so much to choose from!"

The glow of the TARDIS, quite possibly, took on a slightly pointed edge.

"Oh alright, alright, if you insist! Let's go...oh. Now that's not right."

[[ooc: Okay, the idea here is that any characters tagging in are suddenly arriving in the TARDIS. How they do is up do you: they could just walk in the door, they could just suddenly materialise with no added explanation, they could have been hiding in the swimming pool all this time and have only just decided to show themselves - whatever you like! You can keep it simple or make it some complicated conspiracy, whatever takes your fantasy.

Also, if you need some references - the inside of Eight's TARDIS basically looks like this, and Eight himself looks like this.]]

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[whatifigetbored]

"Yes I am," the Doctor countered. "And you, are being very rude, coming into my TARDIS and telling me that I'm not me like this. Do you always wonder in people's homes and tell them that they are impostors?"

It might not be the first time that someone's tried to tell him that he's not the Doctor - Ben was rather dubious when he first regenerated, in fact - but it's not something he's used to from complete strangers, and especially not ones to wander uninvited into his TARDIS.

"That means what?"

[years]

Amy didn't understand any of this. Was this Raggedy Man? Like how River had once been Mels, was this now her Doctor? He looked as her as though she were a stranger. She knew that that cut her the deepest, more than the idea of him being —

Well. She wasn't going to think the word. And she wasn't going to respond to his little scolding, either. "If you're him …" she frowned, glancing down. Her arms crossed tightly against her chest as she tried to piece this puzzle she hoped wouldn't form the picture she knew it would together.

Suddenly, she glanced up. She gave him a rather accusing look, pursed lips and a fiercely creased brow, and she matched his scolding tone with one of her own. "If you're the Doctor, why is it you don't remember me?"

[whatifigetbored]

"Ah, so you know me!" Yes, of course, that explained her rather odd reaction to him. Pacing back and forwards in front of the console, the Doctor started to explain, although it looked rather like he was almost talking more to himself than to Amy. "Now, why don't I remember you...could be a few reasons. I could have lost some of my memory again. I don't recall losing it, but then, of course, I wouldn't. Or I might not have gotten all of it back from the last time, which is rather an unsettling though. I'd hate to think of what else I might have forgotten too."

Abruptly, the Doctor stopped pacing, right in front of Amy. "But probably I just haven't met you yet. Time travel, it can be very funny like that sometimes. Best not to think too much about it, unless you're a Time Lord. In any case, I think some introductions are in order. I'm the Doctor, as you know, and you are...?"

[years]

Perhaps she was experiencing what River Song did on a frequent basis when interacting with her Doctor. She was travelling out of sync with him, meeting him at intervals during his life where he was only beginning to know her while she knew everything there was about him. It made her curious. But, most of all, it made her sad.

"Amy Pond," she said, a beat after he stopped rambling. He talked at a million miles per hour, something she had always found to be a hindrance when conversing with her Raggedy Man, but, now faced with the prospect of never seeing him again, she looked fondly back at it in hindsight. "You visit me once. At night. I was seven. You said you'd be back in five minutes." She crossed her arms against her chest, feeling herself grow irritated, as she always did, when she thought of this. Perhaps this would jog his memory? "I wanted years for you."